10 ZivaMcGee Drabbles
by serenitymeimei
Summary: Put your media player on shuffle and write a drabble related to each song. NOT song-fic! Ten seperate little glimpses into Ziva and McGee's lives/relationship/friendship. General spoilers up to 6x01.


**Disclaimer:** If I owned NCIS, there'd be a lot less crime and way more smut!

**A/N:** I snagged this idea from lj user"songandsilence" over at lj user"malinara" and thought it would be perfect for lj user"smackalalala"/lj user"monicadoggett"'s present! Happy birthday, sweetie!

**Summary:**

**These are the rules-**

1. Pick a character, pairing, fandom you like.

2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.

3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the timeframe of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. (which I totally didn't follow 'cause I'm frakking SLOW)

4. Do ten of these and then post them.

* * *

**1) Keep on Walking- Jem**

Ziva thought that going back to Israel had meant she was going home.

But, as days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, it had slowly become apparent that the people she'd once called family had all but turned their backs on her.

She was lonely.

Evenings quickly found her clinging more and more tightly to the ten year old laptop that she'd discovered in the basement of father's compound one night; checking and re-checking her e-mail as often as possible. Desperately hoping that McGee had sent her something- anything. Her only link to the outside world.

She'd quickly become addicted to talking and having someone listen to her, without judgment, or criticism. Some who knew who she really was, and not who she'd been trained to be.

He gave her advice, consoled her when depression set, and shared more of himself than she imagined he ever thought he would with her.

The only thought that kept her going was thinking of home- him. How he took care of her, even from the opposite side of the world.

She couldn't wait to go back. Back to her _real_ family.

**2) Devil You Know (God Is A Man)- Face to Face**

Abby had dragged them out to one of her favorite clubs under false pretenses. Again.

Ziva wanted to strangle her.

She'd asked each of them separately that day at work to accompany her, told them to meet her there at eight o'clock, and then scampered off into the crowd with a guy who looked a lot like Marilyn Manson once they'd both arrived and found each other.

McGee had been fidgety all night, stealing glances at her with an odd look on his face. The same one that he got when he wasn't quite sure if Tony was going to slap him upside the head or compliment him for doing something geeky yet helpful.

It was oddly endearing.

But, two hours and about twenty shots between them later, she was ready to call it a night.

He was still sitting next to her, uncomfortable as ever, and they'd only seen Abby once since her initial disappearance. They still had to work tomorrow and she didn't feel like getting yelled at by Gibbs for being groggy and hungover in the morning. So, with one last look at the crowd around her, she moved to get up and say her goodbyes.

McGee seemed to have other ideas.

He finally found the courage to nervously lean toward her, his face close enough to her own that his voice should have been deafening, but with all of the thumping, grading, noise blasting through the club she'd had to strain to hear him.

"Hey, do you wanna dance?"

She just smiled and nodded, letting him lead her out onto the floor. One dance couldn't hurt.

What she didn't realize until much later, after McGee already had his arms wrapped around her and they'd comfortably danced together into the wee hours of the morning, was the fact that the exact moment she'd agreed to his invitation was when he'd _finally_ relaxed.

Maybe she wouldn't kill Abby after all.

**3) Out Tonight- RENT**

Ziva liked musicals. He couldn't believe it.

They'd been having movie nights every Saturday for the last three months and on a whim he'd shoved his copy of RENT into the bag of rentals that he'd picked up on his way home from work Friday evening.

He didn't expect her to want to watch it. And he certainly didn't expect her to have the faintest idea what the movie was about, or know that it had been a Broadway show before it'd become a feature film. But the moment she had shuffled through 'the goody bag' as she'd taken to calling it, and spotted it she'd squealed happily (which frankly sort of creeped him out) and immediately put it in the DVD player.

He couldn't decide whether to gape at her in disbelief, or watch in awe as she tried to get him to sing along to all of the songs with her.

She'd known _every_ word.

**4) Cry- Mandy Moore**

McGee was the only one that ever dared to acknowledge the day of Ari's death.

It had started exactly a year after she'd joined the team. The anniversary of the day she'd shot her own brother.

They'd been the only two left in the office, finishing paperwork and checking up on leads for a few of their ongoing cases.

He'd been on his way out, almost to the elevator before he'd turned around and come back to her desk. The look in his eyes as he'd asked her out for a drink had said it all.

He knew.

He was the only one, other than Gibbs, that knew _she_ was the one that had pulled the trigger in the basement that day. How he'd found out, he's never said. But once a year, they drive as far away from DC as they can and sit in a dingy bar that neither of them will ever go to again and drink until they can't stand.

They never talk about it. Just silently toss one glass or shot back after another and then stumble (sometimes crawl) in the direction of a cheap motel nearby, sleeping off the booze well into the next day.

She'd only cried once. Waking up just after their third trip, curled protectively in his arms- the blinds closed, a bottle of water on the table beside the bed, a little red flower laying next to it- seeing the trouble he'd gone through for her, even in his drunken haze. It had made her heart ache.

He probably thought that she'd been crying for the loss of Ari, for the part of yourself that dies along with every life that you take. And part of him would have been right.

But as they'd gotten on the road later that day, heading back toward the city, she'd woven that little red flower into her hair, floating amongst a sea of curls, and shot him a teary smile, resting her hand over his where it sat between them.

Maybe next year they wouldn't have to drive so far.

**5) Kiss Me- Sixpence None the Richer**

"I understand now why you became a writer, McGee."

They'd been laying there for hours, just relaxing, yet it was the first time that either of them had spoken.

"Really? Why's that?"

He rolled over onto his side, listening to the crickets and bullfrogs singing all around them, watching Ziva as she stared in fascination up at the night sky.

His little sister Sarah had just gotten married, the reception still going strong somewhere in the distance. He'd tugged on her hand about an hour into the party, pulling her from a conversation with his handsy Uncle Teddy that he's _sure_ she didn't want to be having, and told her that he wanted to show her something.

They'd spent ten minutes hiking down a small path that led to a peaceful little lake, circling it until they neared the huge willow tree that he'd loved climbing as a child. She'd stood there in awe at her surroundings as he'd pulled a quilt out of the bag that'd been slung over his shoulder and quickly spread down in the grass by its shore.

"It's so peaceful here." She whispered, smiling dreamily in his direction. Her curls had been let down ages ago, heels shucked off, glints of moonlight sparkling in her eyes as the deep purple silk dress that she'd worn clung to her body like it had been made just for her. "And not to mention beautiful. One would think that the imagination would run freely here, yes?"

All he could do was return her smile and watch as her gaze swung back to the stars above them.

He'd never wanted to kiss her more.

**6) Not Enough- The 88**

"I've suggested everything!" He yelled, storing the last of his belongings into a suitcase that rested on top of what used to be _their_ bed. "Therapy, feelings journals, couple's weekends, and none of it's worked! _You_ won't _let_ it work!"

Ziva came storming into the room, cheeks red, eyes puffy, taking some of the clothing that he'd just packed into her arms, trying to put them back into the dresser across the room. Desperate to keep him from leaving.

"This isn't my fault, Tim! And you know it!"

He glared at her angrily, the last of his patience being tried, and grabbed the stack of shirts back from her, replacing them where she'd stolen them from before closing the zipper with a vengeance. "Not your fault? Not _your_ fault?! Ziva, you won't talk to me! How are we supposed to-"

"You're never home!" Her fists clenched and her body shook, sobs beginning to roll through her. "How am I supposed to talk to you, to _'open up to you'_, to _'let you in'_, if you're always out on tour for your stupid books?!"

McGee felt tears begin clouding his vision, but was determined to not let her see them fall. He refused to cry over her anymore, he couldn't.

He slid a worn, golden ring off of his left hand. Heart breaking as he walked over to his wife and dropped it into her palm, closing her fingers around it gently.

"I just can't do it anymore, Ziva. I'm sorry."

**7) Finally Woken- Jem**

They'd been friends and colleagues for seven years and it had taken her all of that time to notice him.

To _really_ notice him.

And once she did, there'd been no turning back.

He was her person.

Her best friend. The only other person in the world who knew all of her dark and twisty secrets and didn't judge her for them.

He brought her soup when she was sick. Helped her decorate during the holidays. Insisted on buying her the best ergonomic office chair on the market when she'd injured her spine on a case, and had been sentenced to desk duty for ten months. He'd even flown to Tel Aviv with her last summer for her Aunt Nettie's wedding, just because she'd asked him. McGee _hated_ her Aunt Nettie.

He was a sweet man who would do anything for her, and that alone had made her fall in love with him. Now all she had to do was tell him.

Was a skywriter too drastic?

Probably.

She'd find a way.

**8) Forever- Idina Menzel**

How many times had they gone through this?

Why did they always think that they could get over their differences, and leave the past behind them?

They'd been _so_ wrong.

**9) Dear God- Sarah McLachlan**

She'd lost faith in her father the day Ari died.

He'd known about the deception all along and still sent her to clean up his mess. Expecting her to follow him blindly- remain the loyal daughter.

A lot of good people had died because of her brother. But even more innocent souls were lost every day because of her father.

Who was the bigger monster?

She'd been so furious after returning from Israel. Her unexpected four month leave from NCIS had only shown her how much she'd grown since leaving her old life behind- and how much Mossad had stayed exactly the same.

It was suffocating there. _He_ was suffocating.

Ziva had shown up on McGee's doorstep the first night that she'd been back in the States, throwing her arms around him the second he'd opened the door.

"I've missed you."

She could feel him grin against her, his arms tightening around her waist, face buried in the crook of her neck. "I missed you too, Ziva."

He hadn't questioned her presence. Just welcomed her with open arms.

Maybe she'd finally found someone to believe in.

**10) Beauty In Walking Away- Marie Digby**

He'd watched Ziva walk away from Tony so many times over the years.

Her spirit crushed and her heart broken. He'd caused her so much pain and was never the wiser.

McGee had often imagined himself walking up to DiNozzo with a self confident swagger, punching him square in the face and then kicking him while he was down for hurting her like that. But he'd also imagined how upset Ziva would have been if he did, and managed to curb the urge whenever it rose.

She could take care of herself. But, sometimes he wished that she'd just let him help. Let him be there for her.

He'd tried. He really had.

Tried to get her to see him in the same light. To show her that she deserved so much better.

But all she could see was _him_.

So, he'd remain her friend and watch her break over and over again. Until he was left to pick up the pieces, like so many times before.

Sometimes he just wished he could follow her lead, and walk away.


End file.
